The history of the church is filled with valuable spiritual practices that help guide you in new ways of praying, reading scripture, and reflecting on your life.

Watch the short video above to learn about Breath Prayer and the many ways that breathing carries theological connections.  By focusing on our breath we can meditate on the gift of life and connect with the giver of life.  

Comfort itself is not the problem. Rest, and safety, and joy are good gifts from God. But over time, if we aren’t careful, comfort can become an idol.   It becomes the thing we always protect and the thing we always expect. something we expect and so when discomfort appears, we assume something must be wrong.

But the story of Jesus reminds us that faith is not always comfortable. The Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness and the path to Jerusalem is marked by misunderstanding and resistance.  The cross itself is the ultimate reminder that faithfulness and ease are not the same thing.

Martin Luther often wrote about how God’s work in our lives is revealed not through constant success or comfort, but through struggle and vulnerability.  And the season of Lent gently challenges the belief that life should always feel smooth. Sometimes the very places that feel uncomfortable are the places where God is shaping us most deeply.

Unlearning the idol of comfort does not mean seeking suffering, rather it means trusting that God is present even when life feels unsettled.

Reflection question:
Where might discomfort in your life be inviting you to trust God more deeply rather than retreat?

What a Fellowship, What a Joy Divine
"What have I to dread, what have I to fear,
Leaning on the everlasting arms?
I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,
Leaning on the everlasting arms"
— From the hymn “What a Fellowship, What a Joy Divine” ELW #774

I love the line in Romans 8:31: If God is for us, who can be against us?
It's a good question for us to reflect on when it feels like our lives or the world is spiraling out of control. Sometimes, we just need to zoom out; take a step back and remember that we are held by a force so much more powerful than whatever we are facing.

When we lean on God, we are not leaning on optimism. We are leaning on a Presence that has already walked through suffering and come out the other side. The cross itself tells us that even loss, rejection, death are not beyond God’s redeeming reach.

The Blessed Peace that our faith promises us is not, then, denial. It is defiance.
It is the quiet confidence that says:
Yes, this is frightening.
Yes, this matters deeply.
But I am not facing it alone.
What do we have to fear when the One who holds the universe also holds us?
God’s peace does not erase reality but rather it steadies us within it. It reminds us that whatever comes, love remains, and love is stronger.
Today’s affirmation:
God of peace,
when fear rises, steady me.
Help me lean into your presence
and trust that your love is greater than what I dread.

It can feel noble at first. We want to help, we want to guide, we want to say the right thing at the right moment and move someone toward clarity or healing. But over time, that impulse can become… less than helpful.  We begin to carry responsibility that was never ours, or even worse, care becomes control.

In Mark 10, a rich young man approaches Jesus with an earnest question. And the scriptures specifically tell us that ,”Jesus looks at him and loves him”, and it frames it in that way because the next thing Jesus does is speak a hard truth.

The man hears Jesus’ words and walks away grieving, and Jesus? He lets him go. He doesn’t chase him down or adjust his message to make it easier.  He doesn’t force the man to transform.  He lets him go.

I think that moment is instructive. Even Jesus did not compel change, rather he told the truth in love and then left room for freedom.

Unlearning the need to fix everyone does not mean that we stop caring. It means we remember that our calling is faithfulness, not control.

Lent invites us to loosen our grip on outcomes and trust that God is at work in hearts in ways we cannot understand, or imagine, or manage.

Reflection question:
Where might you be carrying responsibility for someone else’s growth that belongs to God instead?

Today is the Third Sunday in Lent
We encourage you to join in for worship at Bethany this weekend either in person or through our livestream.  

For an additional devotional reflection, we invite you to watch this reflection from Pastor Gary from a Sunday in Lent last year.

Who belongs at God’s table? In this powerful sermon on Luke 14:7-14, Pastor Gary explores Jesus’ radical vision of hospitality and grace. At a dinner party, Jesus challenges social norms, critiquing who gets invited and reminding us that God’s Kingdom flips human expectations upside down. How do the labels we carry affect how we see ourselves and others? What does it mean that God invites us, despite our faults? How can we become people of radical invitation and inclusion? This sermon reminds us that no one is excluded from God’s love—especially those who feel like they don’t belong.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." – Lamentations 3:22-23

The Book of Lamentations is a collection of five poems expressing deep sorrow and grief. Traditionally attributed to the prophet Jeremiah, the book reflects on the destruction of Jerusalem and the suffering of the people of Judah after their exile to Babylon. It is a raw and honest expression of pain, as the people mourn the loss of their city, their temple, and their sense of security.

Despite the overwhelming sorrow, Lamentations also speaks of hope. In the midst of devastation, the author declares that God's love and faithfulness never cease. In Lamentations 3:22-23, we are reminded that God's mercies are new every morning, even in the darkest times.

This is a powerful message for us today. Life is full of hardship, and there are moments when we feel as though everything is falling apart. But Lamentations invites us to express our grief to God, trusting that God's love remains constant even when our circumstances are difficult. God's faithfulness is not bound by our suffering, but is present to sustain us through it.

More than anything else, it is powerful to recognize that a book of lamentation and sorry is included within the scriptures.  Clearly, God wants for all of us to be honest about our sorrows, to lament, to grieve, and to mourn, and to bring all of these deep, intense emotions into our relationship with God.

Lent is a season of unlearning. And one of the more subtle things we may need to unlearn is our fear of silence.

We live in a world that fills every empty space with noise and distractions. Our phones buzz all day long with notifications and news updates and calendar reminders.  And in this type of relentless space where music is always playing and opinions are always being shared and emails are constantly appearing it can be very easy to assume that silence means that something is wrong.

But silence is not always absence.

In 1 Kings 19, Elijah goes looking for God in the wind, the earthquake, and the fire. But the Lord is not there. Instead, God comes in what Scripture calls “a sound of sheer silence.” In the moments leading up to this pivotal moment we are told about all the ways that God was NOT showing up for Elijah:  God was not in the wind or the earthquake or the first.  God was in the silence.

In our world of noise, silence feels unsettling.  Similarly, when God is quiet, we assume something is broken or wrong within us or wrong with God.

But Lent gently invites us to sit still long enough to discover that silence can be holy ground. The cross itself is marked by silence.  For 3 days there after Jesus death there is no immediate rescue or dramatic reversal. Just silent waiting.

Unlearning the fear of silence does not mean we enjoy it but it means we trust that God is present even when God is quiet.

Reflection question:
Where might you be resisting silence that could become a place of deeper trust?

From Pastor Nate - Once again, I'm sharing something my dad put together for these daily devotionals. Rev David W. Preisinger has been an ordained Lutheran pastor since 1978. He's served congregations in Syracuse, Utica, and Albany, NY and spent 25+ years as an Assistant to the Bishop in the Upstate NY Synod. He currently lives in Clifton Park, NY.

Hidden but Still There
I spent my teenage years living in Seattle. The city that is awesome to behold when Mount Rainer is visible. A huge mountain seeming to float in the sky some 100 miles from the city. If you have ever been to Seattle, you know that the Mountain is not always visible. In fact, much of the time you can’t see it. You might think it doesn’t exist. But it is always there even when you can’t see it.

We are in the season of Lent. A contemplative time, a time to recognize who we are, and a time to remember that Jesus walks with us in the quiet times of struggle.

Despite the times that it may seem like Jesus is hidden, Lent helps us remember that Jesus always comes through with light and hope. Because after Lent is Easter where we are affirmed in the knowledge that the mountain has been there all along. It can be hard to believe that a good and gracious God is really out there when we are in the seasons of grief or suffering, but when the Light of Christ shines in our life again, it is wondrous to behold; beautiful beyond belief.

As you journey through Lent remember God is here, and the beauty and power of God will come out through the darkness to the light because Easter is coming.

In moments like this when violence escalates and the world feels fragile it can be so easy to spiral into deep anxiety and hopelessness. But this too is a story that God invites us to unlearn.

I have always appreciated the truly honest picture that the Scriptures paint of the world.  The Scriptures never deny how brutal life can be. The psalms cry out, “How long, O Lord?” Jesus weeps over Jerusalem. The crucifixion at first looks like the triumph of violence and the utter failure of Jesus.

But despair is not the final word of the Christian story.

It is my firm conviction that God is most present precisely where hope seems extinguished. The crucified Christ stands inside a moment that is marked with betrayal and abandonment and suffering and violence and somehow Christ holds all of it with defiant love.
Because though we may encounter all of these terrors, with Jesus, despair will never get the last word.

Unlearning despair does not mean pretending everything will be fine, but rather it means trusting that God’s work is deeper than what we can see.

Reflection question:
Where has despair begun to shape your vision more than the quiet promise of resurrection?

Today's Devotional was written by our new Youth Director, Addison Andrix

The other day, I had a TikTok come across my page, and it read, "You cannot worry and trust God at the same time." And I started reflecting on this a little bit.  

I hope this is not oversharing, but my grandma is battling Pancreatic Cancer. A cancer that typically takes you out within a year or so. July 29th, 2025 marked 4 years since her diagnosis! God is so good!  

Why am I telling you this? Well, my grandma worries. A lot. About the weather when we travel, family being fed, if she will be able to play in the brass at church or sing in the choir. Worrying so much it starts to affect those around. There are so many uncontrollable factors in life. Things we want to control to make sure everything is perfect, epically for the people and things we love. Cancer is uncontrollable.  

She can spend every day worrying if it will be the last, but then she would've spent the last 4 ½ years living in fear. Instead, she started living every day like it was her last. She spends time with the people she cares about and spends time working on things she cares about. She doesn’t live a perfectly stress-free life, because there’s always something to get ready for. However, she has started to let go and let God.

"You cannot worry and trust God at the same time." Yes, stress, anxiety, and worry are real emotions that we need to feel; they are designed to keep us alive! But that next deadline isn't going to eat you for dinner. The next meeting isn't going to try to burn your house down or curse your future. When endeavor not to worry, we indirectly put our trust in God and invite the holy spirit into our lives every day.
I challenge you to pick something today that is stressing you out and go do it rather than worrying about it. Don't do it alone, do it with God.  

Please pray with me. Dear good and gracious God, thank you for the blessings all around. Thank you for the cold weather, where we are reminded of the blessing of all the warm clothes you provide for us. Thank you for providing us with the health and energy to attend to all the things. I pray that you take our worries away so we can continue to make the world different and spread your love to all around. Thanks for loving us first. Amen

So often, we carry a story of scarcity within ourselves.

There is not enough.
Not enough time.
Not enough resources.
Not enough security.
Not enough grace.

And this mindset makes us cling to whatever we do have.  We doggedly protect what’s ours, we measure carefully, and we assume that if someone else receives something, that means there will be less left for us.

But again and again in scripture, Jesus disrupts that fear. Most famously, his miracle on the hillside when five loaves and two fish become not just enough for everyone, but more than enough. Similarly, when Jesus turned water into wine, it was not just some extra wine, it was an extravagant amount of the best wine.  


Lent invites us to notice where fear has tightened our hands and to trust in our Savior by loosening our grip.

Reflection question:
Where is a scarcity mindset shaping your decisions more than trust in God’s abundance?

Today is the Second Sunday in Lent
We encourage you to join in for worship at Bethany this weekend either in person or through our livestream.  

For an additional devotional reflection, we invite you to watch this reflection from Pastor Nate from this Sunday last year. 

“Love your enemies.” It’s one of Jesus’ most difficult commands—and one that most of us instinctively resist. But what if Jesus isn’t just asking us to be nice? What if He’s showing us how to break the entire system of hatred, division, and retaliation? In this sermon on Luke 6:27-38, we wrestle with Jesus’ unsettling words and uncover the deeper wisdom behind His call to radical love.

One of the hardest habits to release is the temptation to perform our faith.

Jesus names this directly in Matthew 6. “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them.” He talks about praying, giving, fasting (all good and holy things!) but he warns how easily they can become spiritual theater.

Faith can slowly shift from something that grounds and directs our life, into something that we do just to be noticed or affirmed.  It’s a subtle but dangerous shift from “love of God” to “fear of what others think”.

And if we’re honest, the temptation for faith to become this type of performance, is almost always pulling at us. We want to say the right thing at the right cultural moment. We want to be perceived as thoughtful, faithful, and engaged. Even our justice work or compassion can quietly morph into something that proves who we are rather than expressing who God is.

Lutheran theology is very clear that we are justified by grace through faith.  Our appearances, or public righteousness, or our carefully curated virtue are not the source of our salvation.  And thanks be to God for this truth!  While we are often drawn into a performative faith, ultimately, “being seen as good enough” is not what’s required to be saved.    

Lent gently asks: what if your faith didn’t need an audience?
What if it was enough for God to see?

Reflection question:
Where might your faith be driven more by perception than by trust?

To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. - Luke 4:19
 
Jesus was sent to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Jesus used the words of the prophet Isaiah to remind us that God desires to bring good news to the poor. When Jesus proclaimed this at the beginning of his public ministry I do not think that we was saying that this next year would be a year of the Lord’s favor, but rather that this was the beginning of a new understanding of how God would interact with the world.
 
Every new year we should consider how we will bring good news to the poor, and how we will usher in God’s favor. We are sent to be the messengers, and to actively participate in bring God’s favor to those who need it the most.
 
God, help me to proclaim, in word and in deeds, your favor to the poor.

One of the most difficult things for us to unlearn is what Martin Luther called the theology of glory.

A theology of glory says that God is most clearly seen in strength, success, certainty, and power. When we start with these assumptions, we quickly conclude that God is with us when things are going well.  But this also leads us to assume that if things are falling apart, then something has gone wrong.

Luther challenged that idea head-on. In the Heidelberg Disputation, he wrote that a theologian of glory “calls evil good and good evil.” Why? Because we so easily mistake comfort for faithfulness and suffering for failure.

But the cross tells a different story.

God is not revealed in domination, but in self-giving love. Not in crushing enemies, but in forgiving them. Not in avoiding suffering, but in entering it.

A theology of the cross says that God meets us precisely in weakness, and in doubt, and in grief.

Lent invites us to stop chasing a shiny, victorious version of faith and to look instead at the crucified Christ. There, in vulnerability and surrender, we see who God truly is.

Reflection question:
Where have you expected God to show up in power, when God may be present in weakness instead?

Today's Devotional was written by our new Youth Director, Addison Andrix

One of the greatest children’s stories of all time, "You are Special by Max Luxcado takes place in a village of wooden people called Wemmicks. They spend their days giving each other gold stars and grey dots. The gold stars are for positive traits like being talented or good-looking, and gray dots for negative traits like making mistakes or looking different. One Wemmick, Punchinello, receives countless gray dots. Leading him to question his worth.
 
One day Punchinello visits his creator, Eli, who explains that the stickers only matter if Punchinello lets them matter. Eli doesn’t judge him by stars or dots. He values Punchinello simply because he made him. As Punchinello begins to believe Eli, the stickers start to fall off, showing that self-worth comes from being loved and accepted by the Creator, not from others’ opinions.

In a world that tells us we are not doing enough and that we will never be enough it is ever more important to be like Punchinello. When we are struggling to remember our self-worth, we need to talk to God and remember we are made beautifully in God’s image.
 
You are special the way God made you. You don't need to change to fit the standards of this world because none of those matters. You are special because you were beautifully and wonderfully made by an ever-loving God. Always remember, "Man looks on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart." (1 Samuel 16:7).

Please pray with me. Ever loving God, thank you for making us uniquely beautiful in your image. Please be with us and those close to us when we put too much focus on the shiny stars and grey dots. Lord thank you for setting us free to be who you created us to be. Amen

"Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,

Whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm;

Be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray,

Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day."

— From the hymn “Lord of All Hopefulness” ELW #765

This hymn invites us to believe that hope and joy aren’t things we manufacture, they have a Lord; a source.

And that matters, because if you're like is anything like mine, most mornings begin with a list, or a sense of pressure, or set of worries. The hymn doesn’t pretend those cares aren’t real, but rather it places those worries in a larger story. There is a trust that “no cares could destroy,” not because life is easy, but because God is steady.

What I love is how practical the lyrics are. They don’t ask for a perfect day. They ask for God’s presence in the real parts of it:

“Be there at our waking” — when we’re tired or anxious or furiously writing our lists

“Give us, we pray, your bliss” — not the world’s version of happiness, but a deep and joy

“Peace in our hearts at the end of the day” — not just the individual day, but at the end of all our days as well.

The hymn teaches a gentle kind of faith: the courage to ask for what we actually need. Not just “help me get through,” but “shape my heart as I go.” Not just “fix everything,” but “be with me in everything.”

Today's Affirmation:
Lord of all hopefulness,
meet me in my waking.
Give me childlike trust for this day,
and let your joy hold me steady.

Today is the First Sunday in Lent
We encourage you to join in for worship at Bethany this weekend either in person or through our livestream.  

For an additional devotional reflection, we invite you to watch this reflection from Pastor Gary from this Sunday two years ago.

Have you ever been caught off guard by God? In this sermon from Mark 1:9–15, we move from Jesus’ baptism to the wilderness — and discover that faith is not always predictable. Sometimes a bowl of water is just water. Sometimes it becomes baptism. Sometimes rain is just rain. Sometimes it becomes a flood. Lent invites us into that wilderness space — the place where God may surprise us with grace.

"But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." – Isaiah 40:31

The Book of Isaiah is a powerful and complex work that spans themes of judgment, hope, and redemption. Written by the prophet Isaiah, this book addresses the people of Israel in a time of political turmoil and spiritual decline. While much of Isaiah’s message focuses on the consequences of sin and disobedience, it also offers a profound vision of God’s restoration and the coming of a Savior.

Isaiah’s prophecies are rich in imagery and language, often calling the people to repentance while simultaneously speaking of God’s future work of salvation. One of the key themes of the book is the balance between God's justice and mercy. While God is just in bringing judgment upon a nation that has turned away, God is also merciful, offering forgiveness and hope for a future renewal.

Isaiah speaks of a Messiah who will bring justice, peace, and healing. This promise is fulfilled in Jesus Christ, and as Christians, we see the fulfillment of Isaiah’s words in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. The prophecies about a suffering servant, who would bear the sins of many, are some of the most poignant and significant passages in the book (Isaiah 53).

For modern readers, Isaiah’s words remain incredibly relevant. In times of personal struggle or societal upheaval, we can take comfort in the hope that God has not abandoned us. Just as God promised to restore Israel, we are reminded that God will fulfill the promises made to us as well. We are called to trust in God’s timing, knowing that those who wait for the Lord will be renewed in strength and will experience God’s peace, even in the midst of hardship.
Isaiah teaches us that no matter how difficult the present may seem, God’s vision for the future is one of redemption, hope, and restoration.

Throughout our lives we absorb stories about God, about ourselves, and about the world. Lent invites us to gently lay some of these stories down. In each post in this Lenten series, Pastor Nate will name one belief that may no longer be serving our faith and explore how Christ reshapes it.

And one of the first stories many of us need to unlearn is this one: I am what I accomplish.
It’s such a subtle belief that we rarely name it. We measure our days by what got done. We measure our worth by how useful we’ve been. Even our faith can slip into this mindset and become about how much we serve, how much we give, how much we show up.

Luke 10 features a story where Jesus gently disrupts this idea. Martha is busy, productive, responsible. Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet. And when Martha asks Jesus to correct her sister for note being more productive, he doesn’t scold her effort, rather he simply says that Mary has chosen what is better.

Not because productivity is bad. But because presence comes first.
Before we do anything for God, we are invited to be with God. Before we prove our value, we are named beloved.

The promise of the Gospel is that our worth is never tied to our output, it was secured long before we accomplished anything.

Reflection questions:
Where have you quietly begun to believe that your value depends on what you produce?
This Lent, what might it look like to rest from proving yourself?

As we step into a New Year you might be looking for a new way to connect with God. The history of the church is filled with valuable spiritual practices that help guide you in new ways of praying, reading scripture, and reflecting on your life.

Above is a short video that will teach you about Daily Life Cues and the ways that little reminders during your day can be cues to remind you of God's presence with you.

The Season of Lent 
During the last days of winter and the early days of spring we are invited to engage in the season of Lent, a season that seems to mirror the bleak, messy, muddiness of nature at this time.  

Lent begins with perhaps the strangest ritual in the entire Christian faith – the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday.  We are marked with ash and told “remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return”.  It’s a message of our own mortality and the constant looming shadow of death that hangs over all people.  Just like the barren trees outside, or the cold snowy and rainy days of early March, Lent reminds us that death is a part of the cycle of life, and so rather than ignoring this reality, we are invited to let the presence of God into this scary realization.
 
Throughout Lent we are invited to take up disciples that aim to draw us closer to God.  Through prayer, fasting, and acts of generosity we bolster ourselves against the cold reality of death and draw closer to the God who has promised us new life.  As we journey through these harsh days and harsh themes we, along with nature, are journeying towards the new life and new hope of Easter and spring.

What does Niagara Falls have to teach us about God’s power?

 The other day I had a friend share with me an interesting fact about Niagara Falls. Apparently, much of the water that flows down the Niagara River towards the falls is diverted. The water is directed elsewhere, away from its typical path in order to be used for electrical power.

This is always the case. Except, and this is the “interesting fact” part, during the summer months. During the summer, a far smaller amount of the water is diverted, not because we use less electrical power in the summer– if anything our air conditioners and fans cause us to use more power – but because the summer months are the peak tourism times at Niagara Falls.

Now, when my friend told me this I thought it was one of the dumber things I had ever heard. I’ve seen the Falls during January, when supposedly more water is diverted away, and believe me it is still very impressive. Why would anyone go to all the trouble (and surrender so much potential energy) by letting more water flow during tourist season?

But, before I could even make this argument to my friend, he said something that made me reconsider: “Isn’t the real power of Niagara Falls not the electricity that it can produce but it’s overwhelming beauty?”

It’s the same with much of what happens at church. As a Pastor, I put a lot of effort into creative new ideas, clever sermons, and moving worship services, but ultimately the real power of Christianity comes through the simple beauty of its message.

“The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is given for you, do this in remembrance of me.” - 1 Corinthians 11:24

The simple yet beautiful Christian message is this: Christ died for us. Through ordinary bread and wine we proclaim this beautiful truth at Communion. But we also proclaim this powerful truth in all sorts of simple ways: through water at baptism, through the words of Scripture, through the act of gathering together in community– these are simple practices that illustrate and proclaim the powerful truth of God’s love for us.

We find ourselves in the season of Epiphany, a time of discovery and insight.  Throughout this liturgical season we are invited to allow the light of Christ to illumine our hearts and minds as we grow in faith and come to know Jesus more personally.  These devotionals looks at six different “epiphanies” from my personal journey of faith. Through scripture, quotes, and our life of worship, we will explore each "epiphany" from a number of different angles.

In our world of commercials, billboards, push notifications, and endless talking heads, connecting with God can often happen through simply being quiet. ⠀
When I began including extended periods of silence into my prayer life I was amazed by the ways that I quickly felt more settled and connected to God. ⠀
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How does Silence connect us with God?
"Somewhere in those depths of silence I came upon my first experiences of God as a loving presence that was always near, and prayer as a simple trust in that presence." - Cynthia Bourgeault

Cynthia Bourgeault has written several books on the practice of Centering Prayer, a type of prayer where individuals are encouraged to simply sit in silence and trust in God's presence. ⠀
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The above quote encourages us to see prayer not just as the words we say, but rather as a position of our heart; a type of resting in the reality of God.  

Similarly, in the book of 1 Kings, The prophet Elijah once waited in a cave for God to speak. From his spot in the cave, he saw fires and earthquakes and mighty winds and yet, God chose to speak to Elijah through "the sound of sheer silence." ⠀
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This is a powerful reminder that the grand, powerful, overwhelming moments of life will not always be the places where God speaks to us. Rather, sometimes the voice of God will find us in simple moments of silence.

Where do we see Silence in Worship?
At the beginning of our worship the worship leader will sometimes invite people to take a moment of silence to collect ourselves; to  prepare our hearts and minds for worship; to encounter God.⠀Throughout worship there are additional moments of pause and quite for further reflection on this gift.

Today is the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany
We encourage you to join in for worship at Bethany this weekend either in person or through our livestream.  

For an additional devotional reflection, we invite you to watch this reflection from Pastor Gary from this Sunday last year.

In a world filled with noise, how do we make space to truly hear God?  In this sermon, Pastor Gary unpacks Luke 6:17-26 and Psalm 1, challenging us to step away from the overwhelming flood of messages in our lives and make room for God’s voice to break through. Are you planted by the river, soaking in God’s truth? Woe to those who assume every message they like is from God. How we listen and who we listen to MATTERS.